


hotspot

by broments



Series: controlled burn / backdraft [3]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Armor fucking, Bottom Galo Thymos, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Face Slapping, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Nipple Torture, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spanking, Switching, Under-negotiated Kink, promare are venom armor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broments/pseuds/broments
Summary: The thing is, Lio’s good at being mean when he wants to be. Or when Galo asks.Galo knows that Lio takes any request he makes seriously, because he cares, because he wants Galo happy. On the other hand, Galo just sort of assumed that the whole “Mad Burnish boss ravishing the poor firefighter” thing he’d suggested would be more “alright, Mad Burnish boss! I’m here to quench your flames!” and, “the name is Lio Fotia-Thymos and you’ll never douse my fire!”(“Douse my fire,” Lio repeats incredulously, when Galo floats the idea as they’re getting ready for bed one night. Galo steals a minty kiss on the way past to change out the laundry. Then, like it’s only just hit him. “Quench your flames? Galo, I can do better than that.”)





	hotspot

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes you just write the armorfucking you want to see in the world and sometimes you write until it's 6969 words because why the fuck not. see the end for tws/spoilers for the kinks

The thing is, Lio’s_ good _ at being mean when he wants to be. Or when Galo asks. 

Galo knows that Lio takes any request he makes seriously because he cares, because he wants Galo happy. On the other hand, Galo just sort of assumed that the whole “Mad Burnish boss ravishing the poor firefighter” thing he’d suggested would be more “_alright, Mad Burnish boss! I’m here to quench your flames!" _ And, “ _ the name is Lio Fotia-Thymos and you’ll never douse my fire!” _

(“Douse my fire,” Lio repeats, when Galo floats the idea as they’re getting ready for bed one night. Galo steals a minty kiss on the way past to change out the laundry. Then, like it’s only just hit him. “Quench your _ flames_? Galo, I can do better than that.”) 

He _ absolutely _ can do better than Galo’s wildest dreams, Lio’s not just good at being mean, he’s _ great _ at a very specific kind of mean tailored to Galo. A skill acquired and honed over years of use; Galo thinks he’s pretty good at getting to know people, at getting to know _ Lio _ in return, sure, but it’s not to the same level. 

Galo knows stuff about Lio! Important stuff, even. Stuff like how if they wake up before eight, Lio needs two full cups of coffee before he even begins to function, and sometimes Galo has to fish him out of a burning hot shower because he’s lost track of time. Or that Lio likes those little cupcakes from the place a few blocks down, but _ only _ if they’re not fruit-filled. Or that Lio’s quick to burn when Galo sparks it, but secretly, Lio’s favorite moments are the mornings they’re not working, where everything is sleepy and syrupy slow. Or that he makes a big fuss about “ _ propriety” _ and _ “not traumatizing your coworkers who are very patient” _ when leaving marks since Galo refuses to wear a shirt, but still _ bites him, like, a lot _when they’re doing this. 

“You know,” Galo says once he’s inhaled a ragged breath. Straddling him, Lio raises an eyebrow, dragging a claw over the bruised swell of his nipple, the sharp sting of it entirely derailing Galo’s train of thought. It’s _ mean _ because the resulting ache of it rides a straight line down to Galo’s cock, which has been hard for at least an hour now, utterly untouched. Against the sheets, Galo’s thighs and ass ache just as fiercely, Lio having spent a ridiculous amount of time earlier alternating opening him up on his fingers with solid strikes of his hand against the skin there. Mouth working around a wheeze, Galo manages, “You give all your captives this kinda hospitality or am I just special?” 

“No,” Lio murmurs, his other hand lifting to cup the line of Galo’s jaw, a hot thumb sliding over his bottom lip. “Just the ones I like. Sorry.” 

Galo doesn’t believe that apology for a _moment,_ especially not when Lio fits two wicked claws between Galo’s lips, watching him with a smug little smile that’s sharper than the dulled claws pressing onto his tongue. Giving a slutty, exaggerated moan while sucking on them isn’t exactly a _ witty _ retort, but it’s an effective one for the way Lio’s head tilts and the look on his face goes from _ disaffected _to_ hungry_. Lio might know how to be mean to him in the best way, but Galo knows how to dish it right back. 

“Don’t get smug,” Lio tells him, and Galo has to force himself not to bite down on the fingers crammed in his mouth when Lio’s claws press into his pecs and the nails drag down, hot lines of fire raked over his already sore nipples. It’s only the armor that keeps Galo from displacing him when he thrashes underneath. He’s got no leverage like this, pinned to the bed with Lio’s hot, armored knife-leg situations braced over Galo’s thighs, Lio’s knees hitched over Galo’s hips. Between the hand on his chest and the one on his jaw, even if he could get his hands free it’s not like he’d be able to do much. The knowledge is its own rush; it’s not often that Galo is well and truly helpless but with Lio, it’s easy. 

Galo strains against the cuffs all the same, arms pulling, muscles tensing, a shameless flex which is totally worth the way Lio yanks his fingers out of Galo’s mouth and backhands him neatly. The splash of heat against his cheek drags a shocked noise from him, but there wasn’t any flame behind it, just the weight of Lio’s hand. “Wait, it’s _ my fault _you like it when I’m showing off my incredible muscles? That doesn’t seem—” 

“You’re just making it worse for yourself in the long run,” Lio backhands him again, casually, the other cheek this time and Galo laughs through a groan, hot cheek resting against his arm. 

Over him, Lio looms menacingly, all sleek black lines of armor until it ends at his throat, keeping his head free. He’s so much taller like this, an extra few inches of height and obscene amount of strength that comes from the armor cloaking him. 

Galo’d been aware of the size difference while fighting, sure, but he’d also mostly been in a mech at that point, not naked and tied to a bed. Now, he can’t _ stop _ being aware of it, tilting his head to rest against the sweaty swell of his bicep, savoring the heat on both of his cheeks. He’s totally going to regret pushing Lio this far tomorrow, and it’s going to be awesome. Besides. It’s been a shit _ month _ and they both need to unwind a little bit. Straining against the bindings, Galo manages to lift himself up enough in a sit-up to steal a kiss from Lio before he can be stopped. “That a threat or a promise?” 

“What do you think.” Also totally worth it, even if Lio plants a hand against his chest and shoves him down into the bed effortlessly in retaliation. The _ oof _ he goes down with abruptly gets dragged into a ragged whine when Lio’s fingers pinch at his nipple and _ pull, _the ache of it pulsing through him even as his back arches. The hurt is _ good_, bone-deep, a slow-growing fire underneath his skin. 

“I don’t!” Galo tips his head back on the recline into the blankets once the pressure releases. Despite the bindings, he’s loose-limbed, melted into a puddle the bed, savoring the burn that rolls through him. “But I’m guessing ‘threat.’” 

“Yeah?” Lio leans over him, totally threatening, and the hand at his jaw traces down, over his throat, over to his other nipple and he has just a moment to inhale before Lio— does nothing. The fingers that were in his mouth go sharp again, but they trace lightly over his jaw, down his throat, from one nipple to the next, building anticipation without any payoff. Given how long Galo’s been hard, he probably should have expected that. It’s a lazy triangle starting and ending at his throat and then Lio’s fingers close down, just tight enough Galo feels pinpricks over where his pulse beats wildly. He couldn’t look away from the fire banked in Lio’s eyes even if he wanted to. “Guess you’re not as dumb as I thought.” 

“Babe, I’m much dumber, but you’re sweet,” Galo tells him very seriously and it’s worth it for the way Lio glances down despite himself and then kisses him furiously to make up for the smile that steals itself across his face. 

The kissing’s good, too; it’s been _ forever _ while Lio decided to turn his chest red, purple and blue, not gagging him despite the threat to. Lio licks into his mouth with a little hum and winds a hand into his hair, the full weight of him settling over Galo. Like this, he’s broader, heavier than normal and while Galo ten thousand percent loves Lio as himself, this is _ really _ doing it for him in a way he probably should have expected after the whole boot thing. 

The kiss breaks despite Galo’s best efforts to chase it, blinking open his eyes lazily to find Lio nearly nose to nose with him, hair a messy curtain around them. The earring catches the light of the lamp by the bed, a flicker of navy against the cream of Lio’s skin and Galo wants to kiss the skin underneath just for the way he knows Lio will squirm. 

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” Lio warns him, fucking two fingers in and out of Galo’s mouth instead of kissing him again, just for the way Galo tries to suck them and chokes. “The leader of Mad Burnish doesn’t have any mercy.” 

“Got it on good authority Burnish don’t kill.” He absolutely does not know what he’s getting into but he can make a pretty educated guess that it’s not going to be fast unless he makes Lio lose his patience first. Galo tips his head just a touch and slides Lio’s fingers all the way into his mouth and despite having done this five minutes ago, it works again; color creeps up Lio’s cheeks and he pulls away. _ I win_, Galo thinks, and can’t stop himself from pursing his lips together, smooching an obnoxious kiss at Lio. “Big bad Mad Burnish boss.” 

He’s rewarded with that flush growing, but Lio doesn’t look flustered, he just looks...assessing. “I warned you.” 

On the list of three word sayings that Galo loves, it falls closer to ‘_I ordered pizza’ _ than ‘_I love you_’ which is still pretty far up there, even if it’s way more of a threat. 

The oppressive heat and weight of the armor shifts back, legs sliding down from pinning him so Lio’s knees are settled against the insides of Galo’s. He _ knows _ Lio’s bigger like this. He knows that Lio could probably snap him like a twig if he were trying. None of those are _ negatives_, but it’s one thing to know something as a fact, objectively, and something else entirely to have Lio manhandle his legs so neatly, folding him back with both ankles clutched in one hand, like he weighs nothing. Galo’s a big guy, the only person who can reasonably manhandle him is like, Ignis, or Varys. Apparently, he needs to add _ Lio, in full armor _ to that list. Above him, attached to the headboard, another pair of cuffs flare to life and wind themselves around his ankles. The give to these is is longer than the ones on his wrists; there’s less strain on his lower back while still keeping his legs out of Lio’s way neatly. 

Behind him, the headboard creaks ominously. It hasn’t broken yet, so Galo can’t bring himself to care. Not when Lio traces both sets of claws down from where they’ve fit the cuffs to his ankles, over his legs. His thighs clench with tension, toes curling. Sharp lines get dragged along the underside of Galo’s calves. They’ve had sex a _ lot of times _, but never to with the armor, never like this. When Lio’s claws slide over the insides of his knees, delicately threatening, his lower belly goes tight and heat swells through him, a shivery little moan sliding out between clenched teeth. 

“_Oh,_” Lio says with surprise. He hadn’t known that spot existed either. Galo swallows down the little thrill at the realization that he’s going to be learning things about Lio for months to come. “I’ll remember that for later.” 

“That a threat or promise,” Galo asks because he can’t _ stop _ himself, and is rewarded with Lio’s claws digging in just a touch, raking down where the backs of his thighs and meat of his ass are spanked red. The ache of it is different than when Lio had rained strikes down earlier; instead of the splash of fire with each strike, this is sharper, fiercer, wringing another strangled moan out of Galo’s throat at the way it hurts. It’s delicious, but his legs strain at the position when he squirms; it’s a little hot to be presented at Lio for the taking, but the discomfort starts to edge from fun to something else, potentially. Trying to stretch his legs out doesn’t help as much as he wants. Once he can remember how words work, “Oh, threat, cool.” 

“That one’s a promise,” Lio tells him, and the claws slide down, dulling as they circle against where Galo’s wet and open from earlier. He’s slick enough three slide in and fill him, Lio pressing his thumb just under Galo’s balls while his other hand reaches for where Galo’s legs are hitched, loosening and holding them there. He knew without Galo needing to say anything and _ that’s _also ridiculously sexy. Against his belly, his dick twitches traitorously and Galo digs his teeth into his cheek at the raw display of strength and sweetness, fitting his palms together, clasping his hands so tight his knuckles ache. 

Just as with earlier, the anticipation and denial are their own heady mix. He’d thought with Lio hitching his legs up like that, that _ finally_, finally, he was going to get fucked, but instead, his legs are settled gently onto the bed on either side of Lio again and he goes back to straddling him. This time is different; before, Lio didn’t come anywhere near where Galo’s cock was resting, flushed and wet despite the lack of friction. Now, he presses down just hard enough that the smooth heat of his armor sandwiches Galo’s dick against his belly, a jolt of delicious friction that Galo jerks up into it, panting. As soon as he moves, Lio fits a hand to his hips and pushes him down into the bed, holding him there without any effort at all save the faint furrow of his brow, hidden as the armor slicks up over his head and hides his face.

Between them, Galo looks down to see the flames flickering over the insides of Lio’s thighs, which, _ super hot _ and a little confusing, up until a hand fits itself around Galo’s cock, tilts it just so and Lio rolls his hips. The tip of his cock catches against Lio’s hole and _ sinks in _and any thought about when Lio had the time to do that (did he do it before Galo got home?) or whether the armor was self-lubing (oh god) goes straight out the fucking window. Lio bottoms out with a throaty little groan and arch of his back visible even with the armor, clenching hot and tight around him.

He’d been faintly annoyed and a little impatient not having his cock touched this whole time, and _now,_ he gets why Lio’d waited so long. The wait, the anticipation makes the payoff better, and Galo strains against the bindings despite the creak of his headboard, trying to fuck up into Lio but barely able to move. It’s not really a complaint, given he’s pretty sure if Lio keeps going he’s going to come in a hot second, but he’s _ also _ not sure he’s allowed to yet. Lio’s hips rise up and Galo forces his eyes open to watch the way that Lio sinks back down onto him with a little twist that makes Galo’s toes curl. 

“I, I’m,” Galo manages on the tail end of another shaky moan as both of Lio’s hands settle themselves over his pecs, ten little pinpricks just on the edges of where the flesh is starting to mottle pinks and deeper purples. He snaps his eyes shut and desperately tries to focus on not coming in two seconds. “Lio, shit, _ Lio_, I wanna, please, let me—”

Lio hums questioningly, wringing any of the thoughts straight out of Galo’s head with each filthy grind of his hips. The armor is hot as hell, sure, but Galo can’t really tell if Lio’s getting off on this when his cock is hidden underneath and all he sees when he looks up is the sharp teeth of Lio’s helmet reflecting his own flushed, sweaty face back at him. A little desperate, he unclenches his hands and crudely jerks his hand back and forth, jerking his chin forward at Lio. 

“You want to get me off?” Lio asks and oh, oh Galo didn’t realize his voice would do that _ thing _ from behind the armor, all deep and rumbly. He smacks his head back against the pillow and whines, while Lio adjusts his hips a touch. Fucks himself down a little harder. “You’re going to, don’t worry.” 

That’s really flattering and all but he’s not really _ doing _ anything, and he’s never been good at not doing anything. 

“Of course I am,” Galo declares, stretching his fingers up and bracing them on the headboard to try and get some blood flowing back into them. Over him, the armored head tips back and Lio’s rhythm goes from a steady rise and fall to a shorter, choppier grind. Even with the armor Galo can see the way Lio’s whole body goes tense. Around his cock, Lio goes even tighter, pulsing around him and his claws drag over at Galo’s nipples as he rides his orgasm out. 

He hadn’t even realized Lio was close; normally it takes Galo a moment to find the right angle, the right way to fuck into him while also jerking him off. That dick was currently covered by armor and Galo realizes he isn’t sure which option was hotter: that the armor jacked him off while he fucked himself on Galo’s cock, or that all he _ did _ was use Galo’s cock like a toy to get himself off with. 

Turns out, it doesn’t matter which option it is because before Galo can do anything Lio’s rising up off of him with a slick, wet noise, Galo’s dick thwapping wetly against his belly again. Disappointment and reprieve all in one, except he _ knows _ Lio better than that. Galo gives another tug at the cuffs, this time not for show but to test and see if this time he’s going to break the bindings through sheer determination. Unsurprisingly, they don’t budge.

“We Burnish don’t kill,” Lio tells him casually, waiting until Galo manages to wrench his eyes open to fit both of his arms underneath Galo’s knees, bending him neatly in half without the use of the cuffs. The skin at the backs of his thighs aches as the heat of Lio’s armor presses against it, but much more distracting is the way Lio’s armor _ isn’t _ melting away to reveal his cock. Galo’s eyes narrow, considering. “But I’m not above making you beg for mercy.” 

Galo’s hips are shifted up between them, he sees the armor sizzle and reshape itself, molten black slicking outward until there is _ absolutely _a cock there, jutting from the narrow line of Lio’s absurdly slim hips. With slowly dawning realization, Galo drags his eyes up from the cock to the menacing teeth of the armor, and grasps just how badly he’s miscalculated. 

He might not be able to see Lio’s smile behind the helmet, but he can hear it. “_ I thought _ the great Galo Fotia-Thymos could take anything the Mad Burnish boss dishes out, right?” 

Absolutely, but he sends the same mental apology to himself that he does on nights when they get drunk and rowdy and he forgets to drink enough water, or when he agrees to a pizza-eating contest with Varys. “Anything you wanna toss at me I can take and _ more! _ ” Galo says, fully accepting that the Galo of tomorrow morning is gonna hate him. His hips tilt up in invitation and challenge because he doesn’t know how _ not _ to dive headfirst into a dangerous blaze. “Hey, if this is how you treat the prisoners you like—” 

He doesn’t need to have x-ray vision to know Lio’s rolling his eyes at Galo behind the armor, but it doesn’t matter because Lio angles his hips and there’s no warning before the flared head of his cock (his _ armor’s cock?) _ spreads him and if Galo thought the fingers were good, they’re _ nothing _ compared to this. 

Lio’s cock is amazing, it’s Galo’s absolute favorite cock besides his own, but this is something else _ entirely. _He’s sure he’s never been this full in his life, the oppressive heat and weight of Lio’s armor keeping him pinned, clawed, armored hands adjusting his legs. His thighs are spread wider, knees bent back to his shoulders while Lio scoots both of his thighs underneath so Galo’s cradled there. The shift sends heat sparking down his spine and Galo chokes, hands flexing helplessly at the ceiling, fisting into two tight balls when Lio rolls his hips. 

Against his belly, his cock spills another dribble of precome as Lio’s hips tilt, cock sliding out and sinking back in, inexplicably feeling deeper. If Lio can just magically grow an armor dick, then it stands to reason he can change the shape of it, and Galo has a slightly hysterical moment to think about the full potential (oh, god, _ tentacles? _) and then two strokes later he comes untouched all over himself with a whimper. 

Lio doesn’t _ stop_. That’s not exactly surprising; Lio’s flames mean he’s always burning, always able to match Galo’s boundless energy. Twisting underneath the slow, steady glide-stroke of Lio splitting him, Galo arches his back into the next one, the slide so good his toes curl tight and he mashes his mouth against the swell of his bicep to keep from begging him to stop or keep going. 

“It’s cute,” Lio tells him lazily, conversationally, like he’s not fucking the brains out of Galo with each steady smack of his hips against Galo’s ass. He’s pretty sure that Lio’s talking about _ him_, but focusing on the words he’d need to ask him what, exactly, is cute is entirely out of the question right now. “Know how I know you don’t understand what that means?” 

“Is this a quiz or sex?” Galo complains up at him instead of answering, a shiver rolling through his body when the low, steady hum post-orgasm starts to edge into something sharper as Lio keeps gliding in and out of him with the kind of single-minded determination that Galo _ normally _ envied. The hands on his legs squeeze just a touch and the sharp line of Lio’s thumb grazes the inside of Galo’s knee on the next stroke in. Galo _ burns_. He can’t come again, not so soon, but his hips twist violently and his cock doesn’t get the memo, making a valiant attempt at fattening up again. “Lio, _ Lio _.” 

“Do you know how I know?” Lio asks again, and sinks his weight down a little more firmly. Galo’s legs go up over his shoulders and one clawed hand plants itself against the pillow next to his head. It strokes over the taut material of the pillowcase and Galo cracks an eye open just in time to watch the fabric split open as he draws his claw down it. 

“S’almost Christmas,” Galo tells him instead, licking over dry lips so he can give Lio a challenging look from under the sweaty fringe of his bangs. “Can you do th-that for, mmnh, the _ wrapping paper _ — _ Lio.” _

“Don’t worry, I’ll wait.” Throwing Galo’s legs over his shoulders leaves Lio’s hands free. One is currently shredding the very nice pillowcases that Remi got, but the other is free. Instead of stuffing fingers into his mouth to shut him up as he expects, Lio’s hand dips down and flattens his cock against his belly. The next thrust sinks home and the angle means when Lio moves, his hand does too, stroking over the underside of Galo’s cock where it’s pressed. 

Galo whimpers, groping at the air, legs wound tight over the sweep of the armor’s shoulder pads. A second thrust rides the knife’s edge of too-much-not-enough. By the fourth, Galo can’t seem to suck in a complete breath, panting sharply against his arm. He loses track after that; Lio keeps _going._

The rhythm is entirely predictable; Lio rolls his hips in and slides his palm up the underside of Galo’s dick, the sharp of his claws dragging up his belly and drags back down on the stroke out. The difference is that normally it takes a little tweaking with the height difference, or Lio needs to adjust if he’s slipped too far on the bed or needs Galo to move. In his armor, he doesn’t need to worry about any of that. Lio’s flames don’t have an end they’ve discovered, either; he’s kept up the armor for days on end when he had to, running from the Freeze Force. 

Days. 

Galo doesn’t think Lio has the patience for days of sex, especially because they need to do things like eat and work, but he’s also seen Lio spend seventeen straight hours behind a desk doing mind-numbing paperwork. The armor doesn’t need to eat or sleep, the armor doesn’t need to worry about refractory periods. Lio could keep him pinned, could keep fucking him as long as he wanted. 

Something about the realization must show on his face, because Lio laughs above him, voice warm with praise. “Knew you would figure it out.” 

“I can...can take anything…!” The low flare of pleasure at being praised lasts for all of two seconds before Lio’s hand curls around the fully hard length of his cock and gives him a tunnel to fuck up into each time his cock lands home. It’s perfect. Galo’d call it mechanical but there’s nothing cold and impersonal about the armor even if he can’t make out Lio’s face behind it. 

Orgasm number two is wrung out of him before he comes to terms with exactly _ how _ screwed he really is. 

Orgasm number three comes with the slow flicker of Lio’s flames crawling over his skin, settling under it. There’s a brief break where Lio splits a glass of water with him and using as the break to usher Galo over onto his hands and knees. He switches to holding Galo up by his hips when his thighs and arms tremble so badly that he thinks he might topple over while Lio apparently dedicates all attention to an ambitious four-orgasm night.

“I’ll keep you in your place,” Lio rumbles behind him and sinks home again, bottoming out with a jolt that sends Galo’s fingertips scratching the headboard, sore nipples dragging against the rumpled sheets. He cheaped out when buying them - lowest price, lowest threadcount, and it hasn’t ever been an issue until _ now_. 

The next thrust drags his nipples across the rough sheets again; Galo’s shoulders draw tight as he holds himself up and hangs his head down, trying to figure out how long he has before his arms give out or Lio decides to pull them behind his back. A hand pets down the line of his spine now that he’s holding himself up, gentle. “I’ve got you.” 

“_Threat_,” Galo slurs into the pillow. It takes two attempts to make his arms work enough to wrap around the pillow, mashing his face into it. Lio glides in and out of him smoothly, holding his hips with an immovable grip. On the end of each thrust, he can hear himself making a punched out little sound. There’s white noise where his thoughts used to be. At one point he turns his head and blinks the tears out of his eyes to figure out if that green glow is the clock or Lio’s flames. It’s the clock, but it doesn’t really matter because Galo can’t make sense of the spill of numbers anyway.

“Threat,” Lio agrees, warm and affectionate, and spends the next few moments grinding his hips against Galo’s while his hand works over his cock in slick, inescapable pumps. Galo presses his face onto the wet spot on the pillow that’s either drool or tears, and shakes so hard it’s apparently a hint to hold him tighter. The hand on his cock vanishes and both of Lio’s hands curl around his hips again, keeping him from collapsing into the wet spot on the bed. Lio’s response is a little winded, even behind the armor. His thumb rubs warm circles against Galo’s lower back. “And promise.” 

Galo makes an appropriately threatened noise into the pillow and desperately tries to make his arms or legs respond enough to roll over. Lio isn’t moving but he’s still buried inside, burning hot and thick, somehow managing to touch every single spot inside him that wrecks him when he does something as simple as _breathe._ He’s so sensitive he can’t stand it, a low-grade fire under his skin that Lio’s been fanning with the same steady, single-minded determination he gives any task. Galo’s never said _ I can’t _before and refuses to say it here, but he does squirm forward to escape it and is a little relieved when Lio lets him roll onto his side. 

Despite how long they’ve been at it, Galo achesbut he doesn’t hurt. Above him, Lio’s armor starts to melt away in whorls and sparks until he’s left nude, kneeling in the space between Galo’s trembling, spread thighs. Like this, he has to be a little more careful about how he stretches over Galo, planting one hand on the bed, the other cupping his jaw between firm, warm fingers. “Are you with me, Galo?” 

“_ Yeah,” _Galo lifts a hand and curls it around Lio’s wrist loose and sweet. This time when a thumb drags over his damp bottom lip, it’s just flesh and blood. It’s not really a lie; he’s a puddle on the bed and articulating thoughts feels a little like trying to wade through syrup with a blindfold on, but if Lio needs something from him he’s going to give it. “What?” 

Without the armor Lio doesn’t have the height, so he settles onto his side, fitting himself up against Galo’s back. When Lio presses in close, Galo realizes that Lio’s bare cock is a hot brand against his ass, still hard. “I said, there’s still a fire for you to put out.” Lio presses his teeth against the meat of Galo’s shoulder, biting just hard enough to leave an imprint of teeth and to make Galo squirm. 

It’s the right thing to say to get him to rally again, even if his body protests it. Lio’s rolled onto his back, firmly stroking his cock with one hand while he reaches the other out to run up Galo’s flank, soothing. “The number one firefighter has it in him to put out one more fire, right?” 

Truthfully, he’s not sure. The body wants, but is also weak. There’s some saying about this but it feels like a victory he remembers one exists at all, so he's not bothered he doesn't remember exactly.

Moving feels like an impossibility, but Lio’s asked it of him and Galo doesn’t know how not to give it his all, he manages to get to his knees and waits for instruction as to how Lio wants him. Both of Lio’s hands pat the top of his thighs, just under where the flushed curve of his cock sits. Galo glances from it, to Lio’s face, watching a smile slide across it. 

Galo’s never said _ I can’t _ but he considers it for all of a split second before the thought is burnt away. The thought of riding him like this makes him ache pre-emptively, but he’s never met a fire he couldn’t put out one way or another. 

The first slick press of Lio’s cock against the ache of his hole rips a hiss from him; Lio’s cock misses and Galo slides down against it, grinding aimlessly. The second attempt goes better when Lio drops a hand down to guide himself in, saving Galo from removing his death grip on the headboard. It’s not the fat swell of the armor’s cock, but it’s Lio’s, and Galo _ loves it._ He sinks down with a visible tremble and sweat beads on his forehead, slipping down the side of his face to splash on Lio’s chest. Galo sucks a breath in, eyes squeezing shut.

“Take your time,” Lio murmurs, petting his hands up and down the violent tremble of Galo’s thighs. Did he come earlier? Galo had assumed he did at _ least _ once, maybe more, but now he’s not so sure. More worrying: Lio’s tone sounds kind. That’s its own kind of warning because Lio’s brand of kindness in the bedroom often comes edged in the best kind of cruelty. “It’s a bonfire not a forest fire, but they do grow.” 

Distantly, he gets the allusion Lio’s making, but the amount of thinking that requires to process and respond is… no. 

“Gonna put it out either way,” Galo promises him with as much certainty as he can manage while it feels like he’s coming apart at his seams. Bracing his knees on the bed, he moves, rising and sinking down with a noise that’s barely better than a whimper. The armored cock had been delicious, but Lio’s is even better because there’s the naked drag of skin on skin with how slick he is. “_G__od_.” 

Between them, Galo’s cock is flushed, half-hard and aching, but he doesn’t think he can manage another orgasm right now, even if he wanted to. If Lio asked him to try, he would, but Galo isn’t sure where the line crosses from fun to too much fun. Under him, looking up through the fringe of his bangs, Lio doesn’t seem like he’s too impatient despite having waited ages to come a second time to Galo’s potential third and a half. 

“Mad Burnish boss,” Lio corrects, lazily running his fingers down from the dip of Galo’s collarbone, trailing flickering lines of flame down his chest until he reaches Galo’s belly. Despite having Galo bouncing up and down on top of his dick, instead of looking as sweaty and flustered as Galo feels he looks like some kind of prince lounging. Someone ought to be fanning him with a palm leaf and feeding him peeled grapes or whatever. He’d do that, too, if Lio asked. “Just like that. Keep… keep going.” 

His tone is less debauched and incoherent but there’s the slightest hitch to his breath as Galo sinks down again and shifts from trembling, unsteady rolls of his hips to a deliberate, filthy grind that makes every inch of him ache. Lio might know how to take him apart piece by piece and put him back together, but Galo knows how to turn it back around on him, too. 

“Yeah, _ yeah_,” Galo’s head jerks up and down in a furious nod, feeling sweat slide down his back, watching Lio’s eyes trace the droplet that he can feel running down his face, dripping off his chin. He’s not sure what’s tears and what’s sweat at this point, so overstimulated that all of the wires are crossed and everything that feels good also hurts. Every glancing stroke of Lio’s cock inside of him makes his stomach clench. He flinches on the grind backward, thighs trembling even as he braces himself with both hands on the headboard to give himself leverage to move. “What d’you need?” 

Both of Lio’s hands fit themselves to Galo’s ass, digging in just shy of too harshly as he adjusts the angle and rhythm how he likes it. Galo sucks in a breath that’s nearly a sob, his whole body shivering as Lio keeps going, the headboard creaking sharply each time his hands flex against it, tugging it in time with his rocking. 

“Just you,” Lio tempers the sweetness of it by pulling him down into the next few thrusts by a bruising pinch of his already abused nipples. 

Galo sinks the entirety of his weight against where he’s are braced on the headboard, whimpering, drooling on the crossed line of his forearms. Lio pinches a nipple on the next grind and Galo yelps. The headboard, having survived this long, finally gives up and breaks, the right half slamming to the ground.

He ought to be a little startled by that, ought to probably try and fix it but by the time he realizes what’s happened, bracing a hand on the pillow by Lio’s head, Lio’s already moving. One hand plants against his shoulder and abruptly Galo’s flipped onto his back. Knees settle on either side of his ribs instead of Galo’s ears, which is kind of a bummer but these are still good front row tickets. He’d _ help _ with that if he could, but Lio smacks his hand away and then comes with a full-body shudder and deep groan, spilling hot ropes of come over the angry flush of Galo’s chest. 

Galo’s arms don’t want to cooperate as he tries to lift them, fumbling to wind a hand over the dip of Lio’s waist and the other into Lio’s hair so he can tug him down for a kiss now that they’re done. Orgasm has the benefit of making Lio at least a little more compliant to what Galo wants which nine times out of ten, is just snuggling, kissing. Lio tastes like ozone and flame, sparks flickering in Galo’s mouth like pop rocks. 

Behind them, the headboard gives a protesting little groan as Lio presses his weight against it to heave himself back up and he looks personally betrayed, scowling. A single push of his finger and the flames devour it whole, swelling over the wood until there’s nothing left but the gouges on the wall where the headboard had ground against it. Utterly unrepentant, he settles onto the bed next to where Galo’s splayed out, wondering how much headboards cost. “I was going to make you get a new one anyway.” 

He cracks an eye open and tries to pour all of his dubiousness into the expression, not quite sure if he’s really succeeding or not since Lio has his cheek pillowed on Galo’s shoulder, a hand splayed over his belly. Hopefully, Lio doesn’t need him to...move or do anything more than lay there on the bed, because he’s absolutely useless right now, floating, distantly aware that he’s laying in the sweaty wet spot in the bed. Laundry, later. Food, later. Right now, he’s losing himself in the lazy stroke of Lio’s hand up and down his arm, the idle press of lips against his shoulder every so often. 

“You don’t have to answer right now,” Lio says quietly, sending a flare flickering to the wall to flick off the bedroom light, plunging the room into darkness except for the cracked open curtain and flickering light of his flare. “But was it…” 

Oh, he’s nervous. Galo beams, even if Lio can’t see it. Sorting through everything he liked and actually articulating it is absolutely impossible, so he settles for pressing a kiss to Lio’s hair, tugging him in close even though he’s a sweaty, come-covered mess. Lio doesn’t object; he reaches an arm around to pat at the bed until he finds the wet spot, heating it until it’s all dry. Once he’s confirmed it, he shamelessly folds into the curve of Galo’s body, tangling their legs together. 

Lio said he didn’t have to answer now, but he’d also never finished the question so Galo’s not sure what he’d intended so he goes with his best guess. “It was great. Can’t feel my _ legs _.” 

“They’re still there,” Lio assures him with a quiet laugh, tucking his head under Galo’s chin. It seems like that’s answer enough; Lio doesn’t ask anything else so Galo contents himself with laying there and breathing. 

Eventually, the haze fades enough that his stomach grumbles. He could probably manage the labor-intensive process of getting out of bed, eating six slices of cold pizza, maybe taking a bath. Cracking his eye to look at the clock, he squints until the blurry numbers come into focus. It was 4:03 AM, which meant… wait, when did they start?

The math is too complicated. How long did they have sex is the question, and the answer is long enough for Galo’s legs to go numb and to be hungry. That’s a good enough answer in his book. Galo delicately tries to extricate a leg and is rewarded by Lio’s hand clamping over his hip. 

“Uh.” Galo stills obediently, perplexed. 

“I can get it. What do you need?” When Galo looks up at him, his eyes are doing that glowing thing again, like all the fire housed inside his frame wants to bleed out, his human body barely able to contain it. Lio doesn’t even seem winded, his hair barely mussed, looking as if maybe he went for a light jog rather than railing Galo until he couldn’t feel his legs anymore. “You were perfect for me. Make me breakfast in the morning, but I’ve got you tonight.” 

It’s so sweet Galo flushes despite himself, beaming sleepily at the praise. “Just hungry. And thirsty.” 

Lio doesn’t ever let him eat in bed despite the fact that Galo has done it a bazillion times before he moved in. This time, he’s apparently letting it slide because he crawls out of bed and smooths a hand through Galo’s sweat-damp hair affectionately, letting Galo press enthusiastic kisses to his palm in response. “I’ll get it.” 

“Mmmn, I love you,” Galo hums, one final smooch pressed to Lio’s knuckles and just as Lio’s about to leave the room, the question he’d been wondering before hits him. “Hey, wait... does the suit jack you off? Do all of them do that?” 

The Burnish aren’t killers but the look Lio gives him over his shoulder says plainly enough that Galo says things sometimes that make him want to reconsider. “Standard issue.” Lio ducks into the kitchen, Galo’s laughter following him.

**Author's Note:**

> tws/notes: under negotiated kink is on there because it's their first time doing anything in the armor. galo spends 80% of it as that "mark me down as scared and horny" meme. lio is threatening at him while they're roleplaying "mad burnish boss and his sexy firefighter captive" but galo knows the whole time lio wouldn't actually hurt him on purpose (in a way he didn't want). mention of lio backhanding galo and spanking him; galo is enthused about both. 
> 
> please let me know if you feel i missed anything on these warnings!


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